


I Can't Stop Loving You (With Half of My Heart)

by wherehopelies



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, Sorry About It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-07-03 14:10:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15820473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wherehopelies/pseuds/wherehopelies
Summary: Beca knows she should end it, that it isn’t fair to Emily. She shouldn’t keep Emily hanging on when she herself will only ever be half-in. She knows she only loves Emily with half of her heart. It’s just that there’s still the half that does love Emily, and that part refuses to stop.





	I Can't Stop Loving You (With Half of My Heart)

**Author's Note:**

> based on john mayer ft taylor swift "half of my heart"

There are times Beca thinks of ending things.

It’s never when they’re happy, never when they’re fighting. Those are the times Beca feels closest to love.

It’s when Emily is content and comfortable. It’s the times she’s cooking Beca dinner and dancing around the kitchen in her apron. The times she’s sitting on the couch reading a book, her feet in Beca’s lap. The times she smiles at Beca like Beca is her _home_.

Those are the times her self-loathing skyrockets, knowing that Emily has jumped headfirst into a relationship that Beca only has the courage to dip her toes into.

Beca knows she should end it, that it isn’t fair to Emily. She shouldn’t keep Emily hanging on when she herself will only ever be half-in.

Emily deserves better. Emily deserves the best. And the best is certainly nothing like Beca. The best would be someone devoted to Emily in every way, not someone who is always putting work first or closing herself off to taking the next step.

Beca knows this, of course she does. She’s not completely lacking in self awareness.

She knows she only loves Emily with half of her heart.

It’s just that there’s still the half that does love Emily, and that part refuses to stop.

//

“Beca, I need to talk to you about something!”

Emily walks casually into their living room where Beca’s sitting on the couch, pressing miniature sticky notes to an important contract and marking it up.

Beca’s stomach bottoms out, because people don’t ever say they need to talk about something unless it’s bad. Doesn’t every relationship end with those words?

Beca always thought she’d be the one to end it. She was always the one who was halfway in, the one who always had less of a stake in this relationship.

She guesses it was only a matter of time before Emily realized she deserved more than what they were doing.

She just didn’t think it’d hurt _her_ this much.

“Uh,” she frowns, trying to diffuse the panic rising in her chest. She always thought she’d end it… she wished she’d had more time to prepare herself. “You’re pregnant?” She feebly jokes.

Emily pauses, then, with a dramatic flourish, flops onto the couch. “Yes! And it’s yours.”

“But we were so careful.” The panic starts to recede at Emily’s joking tone. “How could this have happened?”

“There’s only one solution,” Emily declares. “A shotgun wedding.”

“You’re right.” Beca twists one of her mini sticky notes into a ring, pressing the sticky part down so it closes. She pushes herself onto one knee, balancing on the couch. “Emily Junk, will you please marry me so society won’t shame our premarital intercourse?”

Emily giggles. “I’d be honored to be your shotgunfully wedded wife, Beca Mitchell.”

“I’ve always wanted to get a girl knocked up.” She slides the sticky note ring around Emily’s finger. Then she grabs Emily’s face in her hands and dramatically kisses her. “Bless’d be this day!”

Then she falls back to her position against the arm rest.

Emily laughs again. “Goober.”

“A goober with a hot shotgun wife.” Emily’s giving her this enamored smile and Beca’s heart pitter patters. This is why she can’t leave - these moments when Emily has her heart in her hands. “What did you want to talk about?”

“Oh.” Emily nudges Beca with her foot. “I ordered us Chinese for dinner.”

“ _That_? Jeez Em, you made it sound so serious.”

Emily grins. “Well I used your debit card.”

Beca gasps. “You sneak.” She pokes at Emily’s side with her foot until Emily’s swatting at her and yelling “mercy, Bec, stop!”

“Hmpf,” Emily grumbles when Beca finally stops her tickling. “I’m pregnant with your child and this is how you treat me? Forget it. I want a divorce!”

Then she tosses a pillow at Beca’s head and runs from the room before Beca can tickle her again.

//

In a perfect world, Beca would give everything she has to Emily. She’d lay her heart on the line and tell Emily, _I am yours, every part of me_.

Emily is everything she could ever want. She is kind and patient, willing to wait Beca out through every one of her moods. She’s attentive but not clingy. She’s beautiful and smart and she loves Beca for all of her faults - all one million of them.

In her imagination, Beca is everything she wants to be, too. She’s loyal and steady and solid. She’s there for Emily through all her indecision. She always puts Emily first and would do anything to see Emily smile.

In reality, Beca is none of those things. She’s wishy-washy and flaky. She gets scared and bolts. She’s always choosing her work over her family and relationships.

After Jesse, Beca always assumed it didn’t work out because she just wasn’t meant to be with someone. She’d always been more comfortable being alone. She liked doing things by herself, putting herself first. She even revelled in her own kind of loneliness, the one that felt sad but also a particular kind of _right_.

But then came Emily. And Emily was different. Emily understood her.

And Beca knows that’s how these things go. You find someone different, someone who _gets_ you, and that’s called love. So she opened herself up to this new relationship. And she fell in love.

But it never occurred to her that part of her would always cling to the way she was before. That half of her would always be yearning for that particular kind of loneliness that made her feel special, that made her who she is.

Half of her had started to jump into the unknown, but the other half was stuck. She tugged and pulled and tried to talk herself into jumping the rest of the way, but she was left dangling off the edge, incapable of taking the final plunge.

She kept telling herself to climb back out of the unknown, that she had to be all or nothing because that’s what Emily deserved, but it was like gravity had a grip on her. She couldn’t crawl out but she couldn’t fall any further either.

She was just stuck.

//

Sometimes she thinks Emily knows, or at least suspects, that they never walk on even ground.

When they fight - about work or their friends or whatever - Beca always knows why, even if neither of them say it.

Still, Beca always thought she would have the courage to end it.

She never thought she’d end it out of fear.

//

“We should get a dog.”

That’s what ends it. Emily wanting to get a dog.

Of course, it was never the reason. Beca doesn’t have anything against dogs, and she’s pretty sure if she wanted a cat even, Emily would have agreed.

It’s what getting a dog _means_. The two of them, caring for something _together_. A dog is the foundation of a future. A dog would mean a potential decade of _something more_ , and the thought of being less than Emily deserves for that long of time has Beca seizing up in panic.

“Beca, did you hear me?”

“What?” Beca heard her but she can’t register her own fear.

Emily laughs at the look on Beca’s face. “I said we should get a dog.”

“I think we should break up.”

She didn’t expect to say it, but the second the words are out of her mouth, she feels the horrible sensation of relief growing in her chest.

Emily blinks, looking like she’d been slapped. “Um. What?”

“I - we should - I should go. We should break up.”

Beca shoots off the couch, not even thinking about all the stuff in their apartment that’s _hers_ or the logistics of anything. She has to get out of there, and she has to get out of there _now_.

“Beca, what?” Emily stands up, tears in her eyes. “Beca, _stop_. This - where did this come from?”

“I have to go.”

“ _Beca_.”

She rushes off to their room, grabbing her bag on the way and stuffing her laptop in. Emily’s close on her heels. “I have to - I can’t.”

“Beca, come _on_.”

She ignores Emily, whirling around to get her phone charger and a hoodie.

“Beca, STOP.”

Beca finally looks at her, and her wave of panic swirls up with a renewed fury. Emily’s eyes are watery and dark, her entire body radiating betrayal.

“I don’t get what’s happening,” Emily whispers. “One second everything was fine and then - ”

“Everything was _not_ fine,” Beca croaks. “It wasn’t and you know it. We’ve both known it for ages.”

“But - ” Emily’s face crumples in pain. She sniffles. “I love you.”

Beca hesitates, then fear seizes her again. “Well I don’t love you. Not like that.”

It’s only half the truth, but everything with Beca always is. She’s been halfway gone since she even said hello.

Emily chokes out a sob, and the part of Beca that loves Emily so, so much shatters. But the other part, the part that’s winning, trembles.

She leaves Emily standing in their room, the door shutting behind her with a resounding finality.

//

Beca thinks Emily will call her in the days that follow, but she doesn’t.

That’s how Beca knows it’s really over, that she hurt Emily beyond repair, because Emily always calls when they fight. She always knows just what to say to put Beca at ease.

She’s paranoid, thinking she keeps seeing Emily down the aisles of the grocery store, in her car at a stoplight, at a restaurant they both like.

It’s never her, and Beca keeps wondering why half of her keeps expecting Emily to pop up in her life again and knowing it won’t happen, and why the other half desperately wants just that.

//

Beca always thought she was just halfway in. Now that she’s left, she’s realizing that maybe it was a lot more than just half.

//

She always thought her particular brand of loneliness was comforting, that there was something perfect in being alone.

Now she’s not so sure.

She cries constantly. She forgets to eat. She doesn’t have the energy to do her laundry, even when Chloe yells at her.

Her loneliness feels a lot like the bottom of a dark pit with no way out.

//

Eventually she begins to numb. She stops crying. She does her laundry.

She goes to the grocery store.

She sees Emily in the grocery store.

She -

She does a double take, her body freezing. Emily hasn’t seen her. She’s squinting at a label of canned vegetables, her mouth moving wordlessly.

Beca can’t move, can’t take one step either toward Emily or away.

And then Emily turns her head, her eyes meeting Beca’s.

In a perfect world, Beca would know just what to do. She would be cool and collected. She would say everything right.

But they don’t live in a perfect world, and Beca has never been those things.

She bolts, abandoning her shopping cart in the middle of the aisle and running to her car in the parking lot.

She flings herself into the driver’s seat, her heart beating erratically, her chest seizing, her throat closing -

And she sobs.

//

“Beca.”

There’s a gentle knock on the passenger window and Beca wills it to stop. Half of her wants to rewind and force herself to act like a rational human being. The other half of her wishes she could straight up vanish into thin air forever.

“Beca, I’m coming in.”

The passenger door opens, bringing a quick rush of cool air before it closes again. Then it’s just Beca sniffling, her eyes closed, the smell of Emily’s perfume like some kind of toxic agony that Beca wishes would never disappear.

If Beca were brave, she’d look over at Emily in the passenger seat. Instead, she just wonders how Emily might be looking at her and tries to stop crying.

“Breathe, honey,” Emily murmurs, her hand rubbing comforting circles on Beca’s knee. It makes Beca cry harder. After everything, how could Emily still love her like this?

“I’m sorry,” she chokes out. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

She tries to take a deep breath, but she can’t calm down, can’t stop crying. She hits the steering wheel in frustration. Emily grabs her hand and gives it a squeeze.

“I’m sorry,” she says again, but Emily shushes her.

“Stop. Just breathe.”

She nods furiously, trying to calm down. Eventually she’s able to breathe deeply, but the tears still come. She wipes her eyes and her nose, trying not to sniffle too much, but she’s disgusting and snotty.

Emily opens the glovebox and pulls out a small pack of travel tissues. She opens it and hands one to Beca. She blows her nose, not even caring that an embarrassing amount of snot goes into the tissue.

Then she coughs, and finally, finally, stops crying.

She inhales deeply and opens her eyes.

Seeing Emily’s face almost makes her start crying again, but she manages to keep the tears at bay.

It’s then that she realizes Emily’s grabbed her hand again, her thumb rubbing circles into Beca’s skin. Her eyes are so patient, so brown. Beca hates herself.

They sit in silence for a long while, neither of them able to think what to say.

Finally, Beca clears her throat. “Sorry again,” she whispers, her voice raspy.

Emily gives her hand a squeeze, but doesn’t say anything. She’s looking out the passenger window, watching the dusk turn quickly into night.

Eventually, she sighs. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. But I can go.”

All of Beca wants Emily to stay right where she is. “No, don’t.”

“Okay.” Emily settles back into the passenger seat. She curls her legs up under her so she’s cross-legged, her knees sticking out over the edge of the seat. Beca doesn’t know how that’s comfortable.

“I’m sorry I left,” Beca says.

Emily gives her a long look. “Are you?”

“Yeah.” Beca sniffles again and wipes her nose on another tissue. “I got scared.”

“Of having a dog?” Emily raises her eyebrows and Beca knows she’s kidding, knows she trying to diffuse the tension, but she rolls her eyes anyway.

“No,” she says. “Of hurting you.”

Emily frowns. “So… you left.”

Beca cringes. “It made more sense in my head.”

Emily sighs. “Alright.”

“I guess I always thought,” she hesitates, then pushes through. “I thought you deserved more than someone who’s always putting their work first and not loving you properly. I always felt like I was halfway out the door.”

Emily makes a frustrated sound in her throat. “All I ever wanted was for you to talk to me, Beca. I don’t need a perfect version of love. I like _our_ version. I like that you work hard. I like that you’re scared because it means you _care_. I never wanted some ideal. I just wanted you.”

Beca feels tears spring up in her eyes again, but she tries to keep them in. “I thought it would just be easier for you that way.”

“Well you never asked what _I_ thought would be easier, and seeing as it was _my_ feelings you were trying to spare, that seems a little backward to me.”

“I thought you deserved someone who wasn’t only half in.”

Emily’s mouth twists. Then she takes a deep breath. “I don’t even know what that means. _Half in_. Beca, you dated me even though you were scared. You moved in with me even though it freaked you out. We all have doubts. We’re all just fumbling through this wondering if we could be doing more or how we could be better people or love each other better or be kinder. Being scared isn’t being half in.” She shrugs. “It’s just being human.”

Beca thinks about that for a long moment, watching a horde of moths fly near the bright lamp in the parking lot. “I think I just needed some time,” she says at last.

“Then take some,” Emily says, meeting Beca’s eyes. “But don’t take forever. Either you’re all in or you’re not, but you should know that I’m scared too. And I love you anyway. So come home, okay?”

She leans across the console and kisses Beca lightly on the cheek. Then she’s gone, the passenger door closing behind her, her ponytail vanishing into the darkness.

//

Beca always thought she’d be the one to leave.

She never thought she’d be the one to come back, but maybe there are some things you just never expect from yourself.

Like being scared but doing something anyway.

Like showing up on your own doorstep, hand clenched tightly around the leash of an old golden retriever named Frederick and hoping the girl you love will take you back.

Beca knows things aren’t perfect between them. She knows it’s going to be a bumpy road. She knows it’s going to take time to settle into a different version of them, one Beca doesn’t have to fit into some mold of perfection, but instead can just live with reality, the two of them who they are, Beca and Emily, scared, but together.

Beca doesn’t know how long that will take or whether it will work out in the end.

But she does know she loves Emily with all of her heart, and for now, that’s enough.

**Author's Note:**

> hmu @ emilyjunk.tumblr.com


End file.
